Stable
by TraceAce
Summary: Buffy’s starting to see Spike’s love isn’t always one-sided—(B/S, Buffy POV, Spoilers from Once More W/ Feeling-Tabula Rasa)


Stable

Disclaimer: I own no characters in the fic—Joss does!!

A/N: Just a short diddy—I think it's pretty bad, but hey. ^^;

Summary: Buffy's starting to see Spike's love isn't always one-sided—(B/S, Buffy POV)

~~

                Stability has never shown its face to me.

                Sure, there were the false senses of stability—they were close to it, sort of teased me into thinking they were the real thing, but they always showed their true colors. They were there to hurt me more, to build my wall of security only to smash it to a thousand and one different pieces, unable to build up unless the proper time was made. Then, when that time came, it was smashed again, a sick cycle of pain and defeat.

                Well, it's to the point that it's time to break down those walls again.

                Not that they were fully rebuilt all ready. That whole 'I was pulled out of heaven' fact sort of smashed it and probably grinded it too, but this time it definitely seemed like my wall was destined to topple over a little earlier then usual. All I have to do is pretend, I tell myself.

                And then I say it over and wonder why I don't believe a word of what I said.

                I hate him. Him and his stupid bleach-blonde hair, his winning forever-cocky smile, his ugly black duster—and then there was the fact that now I'm starting to become a little too much like him for my liking. Now, all right, I'm not exactly going around stalking him, but for some god-awful reason, the thought of him actually was probably the nicest thing going through my head, so naturally that's all I ended up tending to think about.

                He was like a little lost puppy now. The one you just want to hold and pet, and I don't think I ever in my lifetime I'd thought the word 'pet' would come into a sentence about him unless we were talking about his annoying nickname for me. I really did manage to ignore any sort of feelings for him—quite well, actually—and then that stupid singing demon had to go and ruin it all.

                I mean, sure, the whole admittance thing was bad, horrible actually seems to be the right term for it. But he not only had to throw that at me, he also had to make me listen to Spike's little ballad—though that is probably the absolute opposite of what it was. His words stung, hurt, but what it especially did that I truly hate was make me think. I kept that usual strong-willed look on my face as he completely told me off, but inside I was starting to feel really bad about how I was treating this vampire.

                Vampires? With feelings? Now I really HAVE seen everything.

                But as he finally made me look into his eyes I noticed something I kept making myself not see. Hurt, pain. The same look I always had every time I woke up and looked at the broken, battered shell of myself in the mirror. It scared me, but what's more it lighted the flames that never had a chance to grow too bright inside of me.

                Just another problem for poor Buffy Summers it seemed. Now, not only do I have to deal with dying, my friends finding out about where they took me out of, I also have a sudden crush to quell, not to mention hide from everyone, including the one I was crushing on. How do I do that, exactly? Simple. All right, so I kissed him—passionately—and it felt good and I wanted more—but I just pushed up those shields, pretended it was the spell's fault, and ran off into the night like I was the prey to some horrible monster.

                Or a not so horrible monster toting a defanging chip, in my case.

                So I did exactly what I always did in situations like this. I locked myself in my house. All right, so it wasn't exactly my best plan ever—definitely had better, actually, but I didn't want to deal with stuff like this anymore. None of it! I mean, sure, that meant I would have to give up the only comfort I had since I came back, and sure, it also meant that I would have to hide for the rest of my life and still not get away from him, but I could do it, right? Right?

                Wrong.

                The guy had to have some sort of Buffy-scope. Either that or he just really knew where to find me. Every time. Damn him and his persistence! And then he has the audacity to go and scare me half to death by sneaking up behind me and poking me on the back. I twirled around, and instead of calming down because I knew he wasn't one of those 'grr' sorts of vampires, it just picked up, and I felt the heartbeat just reverberate through my entire body, even in my head.

                Spike was –not- supposed to have this sort of effect on me. I was supposed to be disgusted by his mere presence! Now I just felt like running for the hills before I did something I was going to end up hitting myself over the head for. You know, something like gushing about how much I actually did like him, and how he was my life raft in a sea of confusion, and you –know- when I start comparing him to things like –that-, I'm not exactly in the most stable state of mind.

                There was that word again, stable.

                He was my stable in life. WHY was he my stable in life? He was a stupid vampire! With bad fashion taste! And he was the vampire I kept saving over and over again like the idiot I am. I mean, god, I can't even make my point of not ever wanting to touch him again because then I see a stake coming right at him and what do I do? Tackle him, land on him, our faces apart by mere inches. I really need to learn the fine arts of NOT PUTTING MYSELF INTO POSITIONS LIKE THIS!

                God, I just –ask- for this annoyance, don't I?

                It's really just like him to have a gambling problem, you know. I always thought that. I mean, he smokes, he drinks, hey, why not have ANOTHER addiction to make me wonder how the hell I ended up falling for this guy? Just adds to the fun. I realize I had just saved his life only after he ran off, as did his little—shark friend. The mention of kittens brought back horrible memories of me getting drunk as hell and coming too close to telling Spike what I really felt of him.

                Let me say, what an –effective- way to teach me the dangers of getting drunk, because I sure as hell won't be doing it any time soon again.

                And then I found out life raft number two is drifting out to sea. Giles really picked a bad time to buy a ticket to England. I mean, at least with him I had someone else to cling too. Now I only had one, and I was about to just let myself drown. You wouldn't believe the anger I felt at this man I always thought would always be besides me. It really hit me when he called the meeting, and the anger I had in me showed—

                And was rudely interrupted by Spike in the stupidest outfit ever. If I wasn't in such a serious mad mood, I think I would have started laughing so hard tears would have probably ended up sliding down my cheeks. But he came at a bad time, and luckily Xander made fun of him instead so the moment didn't go to waste.

                I tried not to acknowledge his existence as I had one of those emotional breakdowns that I'm starting to be known for.

                Then I blacked out. The last thing I remembered was feeling dizzy and just falling to the ground. I had some really weird dream where I thought my name was Joan and Spike was some guy named Randy Giles and was Giles' son and Anya's almost stepson—

                And then I was woken up, like I just snapped out of some sort of daze, and found myself being kicked. The sudden attack left me stunned and the kicks did hurt a little. All right, a lot. Actually, the confusion just added to that lovely pain. And then in an instant it was over, and I found that I had somehow ended up somewhere with Spike, who was still in his horrible looking suit.

                And all that was running through my mind, as he offered his hand to help me up, was how he still managed to look at me so lovingly when all I did was kick his heart around like it was some soccer ball. I decided not to take his hand on the off chance of a small break into the wonderful world of insanity I was –so- familiar with.

                And then I high-tailed it out of there. Call it one of those defense mechanisms.

                  I found out a little later what happened, and I decided that I couldn't deal with all that was happening in my house, so I went to the only place I figured, hey, no one would find me. Nobody could find me and understand me. All right, so it was more like I figured Spike would never find me, since he seemed to be the only one to understand my happy little insane thoughts.

                Did I say I hated that aspect about him, too?

                But hey, no one can give me a break, can they? I turned around and there he was, that same longing 'I love you so much' look that I really can't stand anymore because it's starting to break me. Despite every single thing inside me telling me to just kiss him and get it over with, my pride quickly stepped in and laid all thoughts like that to waste.

                For about 2 minutes. I couldn't stand it any long and I decided, hey, if you can't fight it, indulge it. I got up, totally forgetting to pay for the soda I drank and ran after him, which defied all logic and sense to me, but at that point logic and sense wasn't apart of my vocabulary anymore. It hadn't been for a long, long time.

                He was walking out. I saw him instantly, and caught his arm. He jumped, surprised, spinning around to find me standing there, looking like a complete idiot. His eyes show that pain again, but also show the understanding he always had for me. How could he keep looking at me like he does? It's all I keep thinking, all that continues to run through my mind.

                "Buffy?"

                His voice is harsh and annoyed, yet unsure and almost insecure. I guessed my latest blow of just completely ignoring him had hit him. How couldn't I feel bad?

                "Come to kick me around some more? Didn't have enough for the night?"

                Now his voice was just purely showing his bitterness. I almost felt compelled to run again, to refuse to notice how much I needed him now more then ever, but finally my pride was overridden, and I just pulled him toward me, letting my lips crush against his. At first he tensed up, like he couldn't believe what I was doing.

                I couldn't believe it, either.

                The familiar sense of utter bliss washed over me as we continued the kiss. I found myself against something, and at that exact moment I didn't give a shit about sense, nothing about how the person I was kissing used to be.

                To me, at that moment, I was kissing the man that has always understood me. I was kissing the one thing that has comforted me through every dark moment I've had since I've been brought back. I was kissing someone I had grown a deep love for. 

                And that person just happened to be Spike who was once my mortal enemy.

                I guess people now have a few more reasons to call me nuts, huh?


End file.
